Hair of the Dog
by SoaringGryphonProductions
Summary: A new face is moving to the neighborhood and along with it a case of a mysterious increase in dog murders she has been investigating. Is there a link between the murders and Claudandus Sect or is there an even darker secret? This is my idea for a sequel. Please rate and review and no dog hating. Rated T for blood and strong language.
1. Chapter 1

**Felidae- Hair of the Dog**

**Chapter 1- Sinners Prayer**

**(Song: 'Did You Call Me Albatross?' by Enter the Haggis)**

You would think moving from a city like New York to another town across the ocean would be good for my health. Well, to be honest, like my master, I have to keep my eyes open. You never know when some crazy fuck is going to try making him the last living thing you see.

Some of these wackos belong to what is known on the street as the Claudandus Sect. I swear these cats make 'fire and brimstone' sermons seem tame. I had been doing investigation into this for years. It still amazes me that some are willing to go to such lengths for a deity.

There are many rumors flying around these days. I have heard stories such as Claudandus is real or that it is his will for cats to go to war against the canine kind. I was informed by a friend not too long ago that cult leader was a cat the followers called 'Joker'.

Now that I think about it, it does explain the increased number of attacks on dogs these past few weeks leading up to the move. So for there have been seven murders. Most of them were against terriers and all were either decapitated and had their throats ripped out.

I had a lead and a hunch. If such beliefs in this 'Claudandus' can stretch across the ocean, it makes me wonder if there are even more of these cats in this area I am moving to with my master. Something tells me where I am going is the source of these beliefs.

Like I said when you walk in my paws, you always have to be on your guard. As I am a former dog in the K9 unit, it is my job to be the first on the scene of a chase or to search for any clues. With my move to a new town, I re-opened up my investigation on this Claudandus Sect.

How do I know all this? Let's just say it's become instinct. The name's Ramsey. I am a Doberman by breed. Anything else is really none of your damn business, but if you must know I suppose there is no need to keep things away from you unless you give me one.

My master is a retired cop looking to find a new place for himself in another country. His partner was killed in the line of duty some three years ago. Now it's just been the two of us since then. My master is the type of man who feels a leash restricts a dog's freedom.

His apartment looked like it was on the verge of collapse at the slightest footstep of a mouse, "Don't worry Ram, everything's gonna work out," He assured me and petted me on the head. Work out? Was there something he wasn't telling me about or I was missing?

Being around my master has always left me with those kinds of questions. His wife divorced him sometime before he moved here and it seemed like I was the only thing he had left in the world. I don't ever think it's likely he will date or try and find someone new.

I now have new territory to roam around. With new territory can come new friends or new scum. Which one ever comes your way is all up to fate and fate can be a dick sometimes. When my master falls asleep is the time when I go out and do my thing on the streets.

It's quiet around here, too quiet. I am used to sounds of cars and people who can't seem to get a grip on reality in New York. But it all points to the fact that this world is a dark and cruel place and only the strong survive and the weak are left to perish in the flames.

Poetic as it sounds, that is the truth. Trust me; I'm not so bad once you get to know me. It was a moonlit night out on the streets. I can hear my nails making that clicking sound against the sidewalk. Then again, a new area is not without its locals who know their way around.

"Well, well, don't see too many of your kind around here," said a voice coming the top of a fence, I looked up to see it was a cat. It's nothing special, but somehow there was something about this one. I could sense it, "so what brings you around here of all places, pooch?"

"Ain't it obvious? I go where my master goes, puss," I replied giving him a taste of New York attitude which seemed to come as a surprise to him. Hey, life's a bitch and so am I, "Ey! Why don't cha come on down? I ain't gonna hurt cha, sugah," I assured the cat on the fence,

"With those teeth of yours, I highly doubt your word," said the cat, but he obliged anyway. In appearance, I was clearly taller than him. Where I come from, size doesn't mean shit, "you're new around here, right? So what's your name?" He asked kindly,

This cat is bold. Not very many of his kind would come up to me like that. It's very intriguing, "Ramsey," I said introducing myself with a light smile, "yah know what? Ya ain't so bad I'll give yah that, not like the first class fuckups I have to deal with on a daily basis,"

"Must be tough on you, my name's Francis," The cat introduced himself as I walked alongside him around the neighborhood, "you know having someone like you around the neighborhood can be a good thing, this area can use some change," he commented,

"Is that so? What? Too few gals like me to give yah bastards any thrills?" I joked. I soon realized that the dog population in town was next to none, which could make me a prime target. But few can stand against many. I am a cop. I can hold my own against anything.

"Something like that," Francis said with a bit of a chuckle, "it's not that I don't mind you being around, it's just that there are some that maybe less lenient than I am," So I made my first friend. He's a cat, so I have to keep an eye on him. I'll never know what may happen next.


	2. Chapter 2

**Felidae- Hair of the Dog**

**Chapter 2- Hidden Evil  
**

**(Song: 'Ghosts of Calico' by Enter the Haggis)**

Francis told me his tale and that Claudandus was dead and gone. It's not that I didn't believe his story, but I felt this type of serial killer didn't want just himself to carry out his will. Francis led me to an old abandoned shed just a few blocks from my master's apartment, "I know this cat, he's been here longer than I have, I know he can help us," Francis explained to me,

It had been two days since I met Francis, two days and three stiffs named Charlie, Roger and Pearl. The bodies were found in separate areas of the neighborhood, but they all had one thing in common, "I'm noticing was a pattern in the bodies," I said to Francis as I studied the body of Pearl, a shih-tzu that I had seen on 'missing dog' posters plastered all over the area.

"Not only is the killer targeting dogs, but this killer has a special way of killing his victims, it seems this crazy fuck has a thing for tormenting his victims, have a look at this," It seemed Francis and I were on the same page. There was so much blood around the body that it covered a quarter of the alleyway, "looks like Pearl had her femoral artery severed, the killer wants 'em to die slowly,"

"True, this isn't like Claudandus's work, Claudandus was much more brutal, what we have is a precision killer," said Francis, "that Jack Russel named Roger had a wound on his stomach meaning he could have suffered gastrointestinal bleeding, that must mean these bodies weren't just here for a two days, with wounds like that it would take more than that to die from loss of blood,"

"The same goes for that Manchester Terrier...Charlie," I replied adding to the investigation, "this killer's targeting the main arteries, he died because of a punctured brachial artery, that's major one in the upper arm, one would die very quickly if it's not treated immediately, it appears all of the victims were stalked and attacked from behind judging from the wounds, we might have us a Jack the Ripper,"

Us? Such a word seemed a bit out of place to my cropped ears. I still had my eye on this Francis. With all the information I am getting from him, I suppose I have no choice but to trust him, but he's not such a bad guy unlike my next lead, "Shit, we've gotta a bitch in the neighborhood? And here I thought can openers were bad enough," said a shit-mouthed Manx.

He looked like he had been ran over by one too many cars. He had a large black fur patch on his left eye which looked like he had lost sometime in his past. I wanted to get straight down to business with this guy. After all, that is what cops do. I growled and flashed my canines, "Listen here Roadkill, I ain't here to play twenty questions, so shut the fuck up and start talkin',"

"You listen, I'm ain't speakin' to no shit-eating dog," He darted back. I seriously want to to rip this guy a new one, but it wouldn't do me any good to eat a witness, especially one who knows the area, "considering the things I've been hearing 'round here, I suppose I should fill you in, Francis is right, Claudandus is dead, but I'll tell you one thing, that ain't the end of this story,"

"Name's Bluebeard," He said introducing himself, "I know all the cats in this area, but there is one...I think her name is Zabine, really mentally disturbed, she lives in the alley not far from here, she won't come out or anything, don't ask me why, I don't fuckin' know, but I have a feeling it has to do with Claudandus," even if I want to rip his tongue out, he's still a lead witness.

"I'm Ramsey," I replied walking about town with this freak show, maybe this cat ain't so bad. That evening, it was hot and muggy outside. After I ate my dinner, I went out to find Bluebeard and Francis waiting at the deck. There was a mist was coming up from the road. The sidewalk was wet but warm to my paw, like someone just took a fresh piss. Now it was time to go to work.

I came out the doggie door to meet my accomplices in this investigation, "Well then, let's go," Francis said as the two cats led the way. I trotted between the two of them just in case any of them try to pull a fast one, "so Ramsey, is it true that there were actually followers of Claudandus where you come from?" He asked, I really admire this cat's intellect. He's smarter than most humans.

"In New York City? Yeah, this jokah's got followers in all three boroughs," I explained to Francis, it seemed to come as a surprise to the two of them as Bluebeard was looking back at me, "these days I gotta watch my tail, his followers across the ocean are psycho, I have seen these cats congregate at the abandoned warehouses on the port, what a load of horseshit,"

"What you mean you gotta watch your tail? You ain't gotta tail," Bluebeard sassed, "looks like this new killer's trying his luck on the opposite species? This cat's got some balls, to be honest I'm sorta jealous in a way," Even Bluebeard was starting to grow on me. I am not a dog that usually gets along with neighborhood cats, but I feel I can get used to having these two around.

"You don't say? You ass ugly fuck," I fired back and made him snicker a bit, before we could find our next lead, it seemed our lead found us. A frantic paw swipe came out of an old cardboard box. She seemed to fit everything in Bluebeard's description. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She was shivering like she was suffering from hypothermia although it was warm evening, "Zabine...,"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She blasted and crawled up into a ball. Bluebeard was right. This cat has lost her marbles and then some, "w-w-w-what...what do you want?" she asked, I knew it wouldn't do me any good to force anything out of her seeing the current state she's in. Her tail was between her legs and there were bite marks on her back. It was evidently clear what we had here, a rape victim.

"Have you come to kill my child?" She asked. Her child? Not things were starting to come together. I wanted to question them before resorting to violence. I know, a rare quality in my breed. I shook my head 'no', "why?" she said calmly but i feel there was a sense of panic in her voice. There was no way she could have made the murderer if it has her this scared. I feel what we're dealing with is pure evil.


End file.
